


The Fall Before the Climb

by krolium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krolium/pseuds/krolium
Summary: In the end, Keith’s just scared he’ll make everything worse.





	The Fall Before the Climb

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIP file for about a month, and it probably would've stayed there for much longer had Keith's vlog not come out. This isn't based on the vlog, but a lot Keith's emotions and insecurities are similar? This was inspired by the song "C'mon" by Panic! at the Disco and Fun.

It's probably two in the morning, and Keith is glaring at the ceiling. He gave up on sleep an hour ago. He’s chewing on his chapped lips, and his fingers thrum mindlessly against the bed frame as he tries in vain to turn his brain off. His fingernails are untrimmed, and they clack against the metal in an endless tattoo that resonates in his skull, bounces off all the thoughts that are already swimming around in there. His head feels like a big bingo cage, with hundreds of marbles swirling around inside. The fidgeting and staring give him something to focus on, at least, lest he devolve into a late-night panic (wouldn't be the first time, probably wouldn't be the last).

_ Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap… _   
  
Everyone else probably fell asleep hours ago, but here he is, wide awake in the dark as he tries to memorize the dimly-lit patterns on the walls and ceiling. He’s had trouble sleeping for a few days, now. At this point, it’s starting to become a point of anxiety for him (like he needs more of those). If he wants to be a good paladin, a good  _ leader _ of  _ Voltron _ , then he needs to be well-rested. He can’t afford to be so stressed when he should be relaxing. What would Shiro say, if he found out? Or the other paladins, for that matter?   
  
Even after two years in space, Keith’s still not quite used to having friends who aren’t Shiro. It’s something new, something tentative, something that could be taken away if he makes one wrong move.

Not that that’s stopped him from screwing up, over and over again. He almost came to blows with Shiro earlier that day over a mission plan. He just wants Lotor out of the way as soon as possible, and either Shiro isn’t getting the big picture, or Keith’s just an idiot.

Keith himself isn’t sure which is true, at this point.

_ Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap… _

Honestly? He could really use some advice right now. Normally, he’d just go to Shiro for help, but he can’t exactly ask  _ Shiro  _ how to deal with Shiro. That leaves…. Well, Keith’s not really sure who that leaves. Allura? The princess has too much to worry about right now, anyway, since she's still in charge of all their diplomatic affairs.

Lance?

Keith snorts, grateful no one else is there to hear it. Lance may be his right-hand-man, but after last time, he doesn’t feel right asking Lance for help.

_ Leave the math to Pidge… _ Really? Keith groaned. Lance had been looking for encouragement, for assurance that he wasn’t useless, and what had Keith done? Insulted his math skills? God.

Lance seemed off before then, but now he’s acting even more distant toward Keith. Outwardly, he’s just as friendly, but it seems forced. There’s a strain in their relationship, and Keith can tell.

He wants to make up for it somehow, but he doesn’t even know where to start. And there was so much of his own shit to deal with, too. If Keith can’t even work out his own problems, how’s he supposed to solve Lance’s?

In the end, Keith’s just scared he’ll make everything worse. He feels like he’s walking on a tightrope: one wrong move, and he plummets to the ground. He can’t screw up Voltron, he can’t let anyone think he’s incompetent, and he can’t keep losing sleep like this. He’s already lost Shiro to his bad leadership; he can’t afford to lose Lance as well. Keith likes Lance. He likes that Lance is finally being nice to him, that Lance will smile at him whenever either of them pulls off a good move.

He really, really likes Lance’s smile.

And now he feels so lonely, trying to sleep in a dark, empty room. His friends are probably already sound asleep, and here he is, freaking out. Thinking about Lance’s beautiful smile and the fate of the universe in the same breath.

_ Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap… _

Keith is falling apart.

* * *

Lance isn't ready to die yet.

Yeah, yeah, he gets it.  _ Lance, knock it off! That’s so dark. You’re only nineteen, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You're not allowed to talk about dying yet! _

Heh. Almost two years, and he can still hear his big sister nagging him in his head. She’d probably get a kick out of that, if she ever found out.

If only he could’ve said goodbye to her, before all this. Lance doesn’t regret being a part of the team, but  _ damn _ , if the thought that his family thinks he’s dead doesn’t haunt him every night….

What if he really did die out here? They would never know where he went. They would think he just up and disappeared from the Garrison. No trace, no words of goodbye. Nothing.

Lance can’t even fathom dying right now. There’s so much he has to live for. So many feelings he's never confessed.

He doesn't even know who he’s supposed to be yet. Is he the team sharpshooter? Class clown of the Garrison? Comic relief while his friends save the universe? Even when he's at parades and festivals in his honor— _ in honor of Voltron _ , he corrects himself—he still feels like a waste of space.

And now he has a goddamn crush on Keith. Keith! It all clicked in his head last night. He'd been jealous of McMullet since the beginning, but this past month, as he admired Keith's laugh, Keith's face as he grinned at him, the look in Keith's deep violet eyes as he told Lance how well he’d done during the mission today….

Lance is in too deep. And he really wants all the saving-the-universe business over and done with so he can sort out his life.

He doesn’t want to die before he figures out what’s going on in his mind. Who is he? What is his purpose? If paladins of Voltron are supposed to be chosen by, like, fate or God or something, then why was him?

Lance is nothing special. Not like Pidge, the math genius, or Hunk, the engineering prodigy, or Keith, the badass half-alien fighter who could kick Lance’s butt with both hands tied behind his back. Lance is just Lance. Sort of good with a gun, sort of good at flying, sort of good with stratagem. He’s a jack of all trades, master of none, and it frustrates him to no end.

Where does he fit in? Why is he a paladin, while Shiro is stuck in the castle? Shiro’s better at fighting, flying,  _ and _ strategizing than Lance is, and those are essentially the skills required for the job.

His sister’s voice starts yelling at him again.  _ Lance, quit being so hard on yourself! You’re literally the only person who can’t see how awesome you are. Stop whining! _

Really, Lance could use someone to talk to, like his sister used to talk to him when he'd get like this at home. But who the hell would be up at this hour? Maybe Keith. Probably Keith. Keith had seemed pretty exhausted, lately, so he had to be losing sleep as well. Maybe he was just as stressed as Lance was, and they would both have some amazing heart-to-heart, and then maybe Keith would let slip that he likes Lance back and-

He’s getting ahead of himself. Like, way, way ahead of himself. But still, there’s no way he’s going to be able to sleep, with his brain so full of thoughts. He might as well check to see if Keith’s awake. He’ll be sneaky. Super sneaky. He  _ is _ the team sniper, after all (at least, that’s what he’d told Pidge earlier today, right before she’d laughed at him).

This isn’t about his crush on Keith. This is about clearing his mind, and maybe helping Keith out, too. Keith’s seemed really worked up lately, or at least, that’s what Lance tells himself. Maybe he could use a good late-night venting session as well.

* * *

Keith's hand shoots to his bayard when he hears the door open. “Who's there?” he exclaims, jumping to his feet.

A silhouetted figure stands in the doorway, arms soaring to the air at the sight of Keith’s bayard. “Whoa, dude, chill out! It's just me.” The figure steps a little closer, and in the castle’s dim LED night-lighting, he can barely make out Lance’s face.

Not that Keith needs to see Lance’s face at this point, anyway—he’d recognize that voice anywhere. He collapses his bayard, laying it down on the bed. “Lance, what are you doing here? It’s, like, three in the morning! I-”

Lance hushes him before Keith can continue. “Quiet. You’re gonna wake everyone up.” Then, almost bashful, he cast his eyes toward the floor before he explained himself. “I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to see if you were still awake. I heard a tapping noise coming from your room, so I figured you were up.”

“Couldn't you have knocked out something?!” Keith shoots back. He realizes that Lance just told him to be quiet, but he can’t seem to keep his voice down. This is  _ important _ . He needs Lance to  _ understand. _ “That could have been anyone coming through my door just now! I could've attacked you! Why can’t you-”

He only cuts himself off when he feels Lance’s hands on his shoulders. He flinches a bit at the touch, unsure of how to react, then sighs as he stills himself. He refuses to lean into it, but he has to admit it feels nice. Grounding.

“Got it, got it,” Lance whispers. “Next time I'll knock. No need to freak out.”

Keith tries to calm himself down before replying, focusing on the feeling of Lance’s warm hands on his shoulders. Lance’s fingers are long and thin, elegant and well-manicured. They’re pretty in the dim glow, and Keith realizes that his own hands have reached up to touch Lance’s.

“I’m sorry,” Keith finally says, letting his hands rest on Lance’s as his eyes slips shut. “I know that, I just-”

“Crazy Galra temper, yeah, I get it.” Lance’s thumbs wrap around Keith’s hands, rubbing gently. Then, when Keith lets out a contented sigh and Lance seems convinced he’s really calm, he gently take their hands off his shoulders. Keith opens his eyes, sees the bittersweet smile on Lance’s face.

“You're right, though,” Lance adds, embarrassed. “I really shouldn't have surprised you like that.”

Keith shakes his head. “No, I shouldn't have yelled.”

“No, I caught you off guard. It's my fault.”

“No! I- we're literally arguing over whose fault it is that I yelled at you. This is pointless!”

Lance laughs at him, which is probably the first normal thing that’s happened to Keith tonight. “C'mon, man, I thought we were all about pointless arguments. Didn't you get the memo?”

Keith wants to let out the laugh he’s holding in. He wants to let himself go for once, but a sudden shiver of anxiety keeps his mouth shut tight.

He breathes in slowly, exhales sharply. “Why are you here, Lance?” he asks, tone purposefully removed. “Didn't I give you enough bad advice last time?”

Then Lance says nothing at all, easy smile sliding right off his face like water down a window on a rainy day. There’s a tense silence, and Keith knows it’s his fault.

“Look, this was a bad idea.” Keith murmurs, refusing to look Lance in the eye. He turns away, slumps down on the bed, and lets his hand wrap around his mother’s knife (not because he wants to use it, but because it makes him feel better, knowing that it’s there). “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m probably not gonna be able to give it to you. You should probably just go back to your room and try to get some sl-”

“Stop.”

Keith looks up, surprised. Lance is walking forward, following Keith to the bed so he can sit next to him.

“Do you ever miss Earth?” he asks.

A loaded question, and Lance should know it. Keith rolls his eyes. “Honestly? Not really. The only person I ever cared about back on Earth was Shiro, and he's right here with me.”

Lance nods. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” His eyes meet Keith’s for just a second, but even in the dim blue night-lighting, Keith can see that they’re misty with tears.

“Do you?” Keith blurts out. Then he sees Lance raise a puzzles eyebrow at him and he tacks on: “miss Earth, I mean?”

The confused look gives way to realization and Lance blinks a few times (clearing up tears?), shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I kinda feel like an asshole for saying it now, but I just…. I never got to say goodbye to my family. My mom probably thinks I'm dead, you know? And my dad, and my brothers and sisters, and- I don't know.” He pauses for a second, biting his lip as his eyes squeeze shut. Then letting out a sigh, he stares at Keith, eyes intense and serious. “What if I don't make it out of here, and they never know what happened?”

“Don't talk like that,” Keith mutters back, voice wavering just a bit more than he’d like. “You'll make it out. We all will.”

“You don't know that,” Lance replies, gaze unwavering.

So, Keith gathers himself together as much as he can, places a firm hand his friend’s shoulder (just like Lance did for him a few moments ago), and furrows his brow, trying to match Lance’s intensity. He speaks again, with as much confidence as he can muster. “Lance, I already lost my first family. I can't lose this one, too.”

Lance’s eyes finally soften, though Keith can still see the panic behind them. “I guess I'll just have to trust you, then,” he says, smiling softly. “Never knew you considered us all family.”

“Of course I do,” Keith retorts, offended because  _ of course _ they’re all his family; who  _ else _ would he consider his family? A flash of insecurity sends shivers down his spine, though, as he realizes:  _ maybe they don’t consider me family, though. _ “I- don't you?” he queries, withdrawing his hand from Lance’s shoulder and letting it fall back to his side.

Lance ponders on that for a moment before he decides, “yeah, I think I do. It's not the same as my family back at home, but yeah, I’d call you all family. I'm just surprised that  _ you  _ do, since, y’know….” He trails off, but Keith already knows exactly what he was going to say.

“I'm the loner?” Keith says, finishing Lance’s sentence for him. “And I keep- keep pushing people away?”

“Jesus, Keith, I wasn't gonna put it like that.”

“It's true, though. I can't connect with people, for some reason. I always get angry and screw things up before anyone gets too close.”

“Hey, that's not true! What about Shiro?” Lance retaliates, flicking Keith on the ear. The gesture feels too casual for their serious conversation, but Keith welcomes it nonetheless. At least he’s not so repulsive, he assumes, that Lance won’t touch him at all.

He hasn’t been able to say the same of Shiro, lately. The last time he touched Keith at all was a few weeks ago, and it was just a mechanical hand on his shoulder. “I always thought Shiro was the exception,” he tells Lance, thinking back to the last few months Shiro’s been back. “Lately, though, I'm not so sure. I keep fucking up this leader thing, and every time I let him down, I feel like I'm losing him a little. He set all these expectations for me, and now that I'm not meeting up, he’s pulling away. And all my yelling is just pushing him further. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm even on the team at all.”

“Really?  _ You?”  _ Lance sounds completely incredulous. “The best pilot and the best fighter on the team? Please, if anyone should leave the team, it's me.”

Well, Keith probably should’ve been expecting that, after what happened last time. “Hey, I know I gave you some downright shitty advice the other day, but that doesn't mean you're not an important part of the team. I'm just a fighter. You- Lance, you actually know how to  _ talk  _ to people and  _ sympathize _ with them. You know how to make complete strangers feel comfortable! Don't you realize how important that is when our goal is to defend and unite the universe? You keep us all together, and you’re part of the reason we’ve got so many allies.” He draws in a breath, then adds, “math may be Pidge’s thing, but people (and, well, aliens, I guess) are  _ your  _ thing. We  _ need  _ you.”

“You don't mean that,” Lance replies flatly.

“Do you honestly think I'd lie about this?” Keith shoots back, to bothered to even worrying about the way his voice cracks as he speaks. “Have you ever seen me lie? Because I'm the worst goddamn liar in the universe.”

Lance snorts derisively. “I'll believe that.”

“Oh my god,” Keith groans, “would you  _ please _ just take a damn compliment?”

Lance laughs, but it’s stale and humorless, just there to fill in empty space. “Fine, fine,” he concedes, finally lightening up a bit. “Thanks, Keith. I guess I just never thought about it that way. Oh, and Keith?”

“What?”

“I realize that I kinda forced that rivalry thing on you, but like….” Lance trails off, gathers himself, starts again. “You really don't have to push me away. We’re friends, okay? There's nothing wrong with opening up like you just did. I'm not about to walk away just because you aren't what I was expecting—and I'm sure Shiro isn't, either!” Lance sounds so sure of that, and Keith doesn’t know why, but that confidence hits him right where it hurts. “Dude, he’s your best friend. I bet he just needs time to figure things out. His brain’s still kinda scrambled, remember? I bet he's just as stressed as we are.”

“More stressed, probably,” Keith figures, drawing a laugh out of Lance (this one a lot less forced than the last).

He hesitates for a moment, then says, “Thanks, Lance. I want to believe you, I really do,” he can feel the way his voice catches, and he knows tears are coming, so he clenches his fist in the bedspread and finishes as quickly as he can: “I just have a hard time trusting people. I'm- I'm sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, I get it. I'm here if you ever need me, though. Judgement-free zone, and all that.” He smiles at Keith, and it feels like sunshine in the middle of the night.

“Thank you,” Keith repeats. “I'm sorry.”

Lance’s bright smile doesn’t fade, exactly, just softens from three-trillion-megawatt neon to comfortable lamplight. “It's fine, you don't need to be sorry.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” he repeats once more, because he can’t help himself.

“Don't worry about- dude, are you crying?” A hand is around Keith’s shoulder in a snap-second, and Keith doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

All he can say as his shoulders start to shake under the force of his sobs is, “shut up.” And even that is stuttered.

“Wait-”

“I said shut up!” Keith yells, so he doesn’t sound weak. He yanks Lance’s hand off his shoulder and growls, “god, just get out of here!”

“It's fine, Keith,” Lance replies carefully, hands raised defensively. “I was crying earlier, as well.”

“Dammit, Lance! I-” Keith cuts himself off. “What? Why?”

“I just really missed my sister, y’know? It's okay if you don't want me to be here, though. I can leave.” Lance stands up, body facing the door and it isn’t until that moment that Keith realizes he really,  _ really _ doesn’t want Lance to go.

“Don't. It's- I'm sorry,” he says again, and feels like an idiot. “Please stay.”

“It's okay. I'm not going anywhere.” Lance’s voice is barely above a whisper. Keith doubts he’s ever heard him this quiet. “Nothing better to do at this hour, anyway, eh?”

Keith rolls his eyes, but the sobbing probably defeats the effect. “Hah. Right. I-” Another sob.  “Fuck.”

Lance comes a bit closer, lifts his arms, then puts them back down awkwardly. “Do you, uhh…. Do you want a hug or something?”

“I'd- I'd like that, yeah.” He sounds stupid when he replies and he knows it, but Lance sounded a little stupid too, so it’s almost okay.

“God, Mullet, come here,” Lance says as he guides Keith off his bed and wraps his arm around him. As Keith’s face burrows into Lance’s neck, Lance whispers in his ear. “You’re killing me, man. I could tell you were bottling something up, but- dude, just like, let it all out, okay? It’s cool.”

Keith doesn’t say anything the rest of the night—he just lets himself cry as Lance coos in his ear every so often. It should probably feel a bit patronizing, but somehow it’s alright when Lance does it. Lance may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s not about to tell anybody that Keith just had a breakdown in front of him. Lance gets it, even if he doesn’t quite understand what Keith’s going through.

He’s there, and that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments make my day, if you have the time, especially if you tell me how I can improve!
> 
> Also, if you wanna come scream about Voltron with me, I'm on Tumblr @krolium. It's pretty much just a Voltron blog at this point, and I could use more people to scream with.


End file.
